Cold Metal
by cherrytea
Summary: Today was the day a certain anonymous Robot Chia Clown was going to die. [Based on the game Carnival of Terror.]


COLD**METAL**.

- **cherry**tea -

- - - - - - - - - - - -

**T**oday was the day a certain anonymous Robot Chia Clown was going to die.

He was sure of this as he waited for his pies – cherry, he didn't like any other – to cool down. Well, technically, he wouldn't be dead, since he was never quite alive in the first place. Robots did not have beating hearts or any other internal organs for that matter. They consisted of metal, and, in his case, cherry pie.

The Chia sighed, already weary from all this heavy thinking. He stashed his pies in a perplexing location on his person and shuffled out the door to the Deserted Fairground.

—

At the haunted carnival, the Chia huddled into a dark corner of a tent, away from the apprehensive chatter of his fellow victims. From his spot he could hear snatches of conversation:

"How many pies have you baked? I've got ten, do you suppose that's enough –"

(Ten? I only have six, he thought.)

"This is so exciting, I want to get out there now –"

(What an ignorant idiot, he thought.)

" – managed to salvage a few before they were all eaten."

(A few. How much is a few? A few could be two, three, four, five..., he thought.)

"Your nose looks a bit rusty, dear."

(Rusty? Ha! My nose is perfectly shiny, he thought.)

A series of sobs, followed by a choked-out "We're all going to die..."

(That sure is reassuring, he thought.)

He could not understand why everyone was being so calm – almost everyone, anyway. This question was so mind-boggling that he asked a nearby Chia with a bored expression on his face.

"Why is everyone so calm?" he inquired.

"I dunno," the clown replied lethargically. He closed his eyes and feigned sleep, signaling the end of the conversation.

What a helpful fellow, the Chia thought in annoyance. Why is he pretending to sleep, anyway? It is so obvious. He is even snoring in a stereotypical oh-no-I'm-not-just-pretending-to-be-asleep-of-course-not-don't-be-silly fashion. Imbecile, idiot, moron, stupid –

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He glared at the source of the disturbance so fiercely that the-source-of-the-disturbance shrank away. "I-it's time to g-go," he stuttered apologetically before running out of the tent.

The Chia looked around in surprise. The tent was almost empty; everyone had left, gone to face their tragic fates. It suddenly occurred to him that he could probably just stay in and sit out the entire battle, but he shook his head vehemently to clear it of the thought. He had to go out there and heroically brave danger! He had to die a soldier's death! Years later, people would be discussing him, talking about all those "poor stupid Robot Chia Clowns who risked their lives to throw pies at random people."

With that in mind, he rushed out of the tent before he could change his mind, brandishing a cherry pie in a heroic fashion.

—

The Chia hid behind a red-and-white striped tent, watching on as a nameless and faceless person mercilessly shot at the clowns, mowing them down in a succession of unseen bullets. He watched as his friends died – or exploded, rather – all around him. He mentally snorted. Friends? He hadn't even talked to any of these before, save for the idiot pretending to be asleep. He suddenly wondered where the idiot was. Probably blown to smithereens by now.

The clown paused for just a second, during which he witnessed an arm being blasted off. He braced himself, readied a pie, and dashed out into the madness, running at lightning speed, hurling a few pies at the ever-silhouetted attacker, praying that he wouldn't be hit ("please don't let me be hit please don't let me be hit please don't let me be hit"), and trying to tune out the extremely distracting sounds of slaughter pressing in on all sides.

An eternity and five pies later, the Chia made it safely across to the other side. He was concealed behind a lime green polka-dotted tent. In spite of everything, he found himself thinking, Who designed this ridiculously designed tent?

He closed his eyes and relaxed for a moment, apparently unaware of the fact that resting on a battlefield was very ironic and ridiculous. He couldn't shut out the sounds, though: limbs being shattered, the roller coaster in the distance, pies of different varieties being shot at, the relentless bangbangbang of the cold weapon. The last sound was driving him particularly up the wall...

The Chia's eyes snapped open. In a sudden rare moment of pure unadulterated fury, he leaped out from his refuge and chucked his last cherry pie with all his mighty might, forgetting to run. He watched as the massacrer turned the gun on to the pie and shot it, causing it to explode into many cherry-flavored pieces.

Now the slaughterer aimed the weapon at him. He could sense the crosshair on the very spot where his heart should have been, and although he knew he was an unfeeling robot, he could almost swear he could feel a prickle of fear in his non-existent heart. Maybe he could somehow feel things: after all, he was positive that he was angry beyond belief a moment ago.

The robot heard the bullet cutting through the air towards him, getting closer with every passing nanosecond...

... and all he could think was, All those wasted pies... I could have eaten them...

He squeezed his eyes shut and prepared himself for the moment when the cruel bullet would pierce his outer shell, would expose his cherry-colored innards...

But it never came. He cautiously opened his eyes a slit and peered out. The bullet had fallen to the ground, useless and no longer a threat. It lay barely a centimeter from his left foot.

As he looked up at the silhouetted player, he found that there was no one there. The clown slowly realized what had happened: the player had either run out of bullets, health, or time. Either way, he had survived the game. He wanted to run and jump and scream and shout with glee, but decided that was too uncharacteristic of him.

Years later, he knew, people would be discussing him, but not as another faceless Robot Chia Clown who had died an unnecessary death – oh no: he would forever be known as one of the few who had defied death and survived the brutal Carnival of Terror.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

First Neopets fanfic, and second fanfic overall. I never thought I would write something Neopets-related, but here it is. oO; Review please?


End file.
